


The Golden Bowl

by DJClawson



Series: Wait, Danny's a Buddhist? [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Buddhism, Buddhist Danny, Danny knows more about his company than he lets on, Drugs, F/M, Friendship, Jessica Jones has no time for this, Luke is a pretty good bro too, The Long-Suffering Ward Meachum, The ongoing saga of Danny's office plant, a day in the life, danny is a good bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 02:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13848363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJClawson/pseuds/DJClawson
Summary: Luke reacquaints himself with second-wave feminist literature, Danny can't figure out if he owns a bank, and everyone gets their tasting menu.





	The Golden Bowl

**Author's Note:**

> All my thanks to LachesisMeg for her beta work!

Of all the times Luke Cage was without a roof over his head, it usually wasn’t his fault – but this time was different, if Claire had anything to say about it, and she had a lot to say about.

Unable to crash at the barbershop-turned-clinic while Claire was on a well-deserved tear, his first thought was Colleen’s dojo, and he was halfway to sending a text when he remembered it was under renovation while she was in China. After a few other calls to friends, he miraculously managed to dig up Danny’s penthouse address buried in his phone. Danny didn’t pick up the phone, but he was a heavy sleeper, and where else would he be?

So Luke trekked not particularly far, to the Upper East Side, to one of those buildings so old and expensive it had a name and a coat of arms. He knew the impression he made, coming in so late at night, but fortunately, the security officer behind the desk in the lobby was, stereotypically, a brother.

“Hey, I’m here to see um, Daniel Rand.”

“Is he expecting you?” The officer gave him a once-over, and his face lit up. “Holy shit, are you -“

“Yeah, man.”

“And Mr. Rand knows _you_?” the guard said, which showed either how high he regarded the hero of Harlem, or how little he regarded the residents of the building, or both. He held his hand out for a first-bump, and Luke obliged over the barrier of the massive marble-topped desk.

“Yeah, we go back. About six months, but we go back. He’s not picking up his cell but he loses the darn thing so often – “

“Sure.” Even though the sign next to the guard said PLEASE PRESENT ID, he didn’t request any as he called upstairs. There was a long delay before Danny picked up. “Mr. Rand? Sorry to disturb you, but a Mr. Cage is here to see you.” He waited and put his hand over the receiver. “He wants to know if he should come down.”

“Nah, tell him it’s not like that.” The last thing he needed was Danny in a tracksuit, ready to pop some heads. “It’s just a friendly visit.”

The guard repeated that into the phone. “Yes, sir.” He got up from his desk. “I’ll take you up.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s the penthouse, got a whole bunch of keycards,” the guard said, and took him to the elevator. Inside, he needed a special card to activate the button for the top floor. “And there’s a blast door with a retinal scanner. The last guy said something about guys with hatchets. Rich people problems.”

“It’s not just ‘cuz he’s rich.” And Luke could definitely imagine people attacking Danny Rand with hatchets, and him handling it tolerably well.

“Hey man – can I get a selfie with you? My kids will be so impressed.”

“Sure.” Luke wasn’t a big fan of fame, but he made exceptions, and even smiled for the camera.

When they arrived, there was indeed a blast door, and the guard had to get his eye scanned before opening it. “Suppose it wouldn’t stop you.”

“I’m a guest so let’s hope I don’t have to find out,” Luke told him, and thanked him for his time.

Danny’s door was down a long hallway, and Danny opened it on the first knock. “Hey.” He was wearing pajama bottoms and a T-shirt with a black dragon print identical to his own tattoo on it. His usual smile was minimal, probably because he was half-asleep. “Everything okay?”

“Old lady kicked me out.”

“Claire’s an old lady?”

“She needs time to blow off steam and the flower shops are closed. You mind if I crash here for a few hours?”

“Yes. I mean no, I don’t mind. Not at all.” He held the door open for Luke and hit the light switch, and fancy fixtures illuminated yet another hallway, except this one was in his apartment. “I have like … three bedrooms? Maybe four. But they might not all have sheets on them. And there’s food in the kitchen. The food – well, you know how I eat.” Meaning there would be tons of food, most of it carbs and vegetables. Danny had the palate of a cross between a nine-year-old and an Asian foodie. Not a surprise, all things considered. He was still wiping sleep from his eyes as he gestured to a room that was a full-sized kitchen as clean as the day it was installed, but with snacks in crammed in every corner. “That’s the breakfast nook. Or that’s what the realtor called it.”

Luke wasn’t even ready to comment on the fact that Danny didn’t seem to know how many bedrooms he had. “The realtor?”

"Uh, J-Money did like, everything?” Danny said. “And I’m usually at the dojo, so I’m not really used to being here.”

“Your lawyer bought you an apartment.”

Danny shrugged. “It was my money. She’s gotta earn her million-dollar retainer somehow, I guess.”

“It’s a nice apartment.” And Luke had probably only seen a fifth of it.

“Colleen doesn’t like it. She says it’s too eerie because it’s so big. And I’m not really used to it, either. The cleaning lady is here more than me.”

Luke was willing to bet on that. Danny did manage to find a spare bedroom, with sheets and all, and Luke had to wonder if he’d been in it before. Since Danny looked clueless and tired, Luke let him off the hook. “I only need a few hours.”

“Stay as long as you want,” Danny said, though he really didn’t have to. “I have to be up … I have a board meeting tomorrow. Today. At some horrible time. So …”

“Thanks. For the place.” And not asking a whole lot of questions about where Luke messed up with Claire and what he was going to have to do to make up for that. Those weren’t questions he wanted to answer.

Instead, Danny just waved goodbye and disappeared down the hallway, because his apartment had a real hallway.

G-d _damn_.

~*~

You couldn’t hear the city up here. It was almost like Seagate, without the sea, and the smell of saltwater and birds mocking you with their early morning calls. Sometimes it seemed like they were just letting you know that they were free and you were not. But Danny’s apartment was silent, like a scene in a horror movie before the main character was jumped by the killer. Even the recirculated air was at a discreet minimum. It was also all so horribly white – the walls, the furniture, the sheets and comforter on the bed. The expensive-but-simple alarm clock made the place look like an overpriced hotel room. Not that Luke was complaining – he had slept in worse places than a glorious four-poster bed with satin sheets that still smelled slightly of the packaging.

It was light out, but not very. He’d only slept a few hours, but he could already hear Danny jumping around, or whatever he was doing that was making noise against the floor. Of course the little weirdo couldn’t be calm in the calmest part of the day, when normal people needed coffee to be awake. Luke didn’t smell any coffee. Giving Danny caffeine would probably be disastrous.

Luke dressed in his clothes from yesterday (he definitely wouldn’t fit into anything Danny’s size) and explored the kitchen, choosing between six types of organic granola bars before his curiosity got the better of him and he went looking for his host. He could hear the faint strains of a television as someone droned on with a very even voice. Luke had to get closer before he could tell it was the financial news. He turned a corner and saw Danny wasn’t watching it, though. The living room – or the den, or whatever, there were enough spare rooms to not have a name for each one – had a massive screen, but it was off to the side, to Danny’s left. He was facing a massive wooden bookcase-type piece of furniture with bronze or gold idols in each groove, and it took Luke a moment to realize it was an altar, with silver bowls filled with water in front of female goddess with what must have been dozens of arms in the middle. It was up against the wall and behind the furniture were brocaded scroll paintings of blue Buddhas and dancing monsters in front of sheets of stylized fire.

Danny was wearing sweatpants and an undershirt. He had an angled wooden board on the ground in front of him. He pursed his hands together above his head, brought them down to his chest, and did a full-body prostration so his whole body was on the ground with his hands out in front of him. Then he would tap the ground with his palms, pull himself up in steps like he was folding up his body and then unfolding until he was standing straight, then he would start the whole process over again, like he was beating his body against the ground, over and over again.

This time when Danny came back up he paused. “Do you need something?”

“Nah. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Danny shrugged. “I’m pretty much done.” He leaned over and stopped the stopwatch app he had open on his phone.

“How long do you do that?”

“It’s supposed to be an hour every day, but … you know I’m not the best monk.” Danny smirked and folded up the cushions and pushed them aside. “If I was bad, it was three. Or eight. Depending on how much humility I needed to learn.”

“Growing up, we usually didn’t do praying and working out at the same time. I don’t think I could even kneel for three hours.”

“We have cushions,” Danny said with a smile. “But yeah, it hurts. It’s like – I was told that your bad karma is stuck in your soul like grime stuck to the bottom of a pot. That crusty stuff. When you do prostrations, it’s scraping all of that stuff out.”

“You have that much bad karma?”

“Accumulated from your previous life.”

“How do you know?”

“Someone who has been cleaned of all of their negative karma and performs only positive actions has attained Enlightenment, and Enlightened people don’t reincarnate anymore. They leave the cycle of rebirth and achieve Nirvana,” Danny explained. “So the very fact that the two of us were born in human bodies means that we’re not Enlightened because we’re still here and we have bad karma to work off.”

Luke nodded. It didn’t sound far off from the books on Buddhism he’d read – mostly in prison – but he couldn’t recite it off the top of his head like Danny could, obviously. And when Luke talked about religion, something he rarely did, he didn’t use such matter-of-fact-yet-chipper tones about it, he was explaining gravity or something. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Busy day?”

“Actually, I think I might be laying low for a little while. Just to be sure.”  He’d texted Claire. She hadn’t texted back.

Danny still didn’t ask what he’d done wrong, which was unusually tactful for Danny. “Are you still trying to get that loan for the new bar?”

“Yeah, it looks like they’re going to need more than you and Matt as references.”

“Come to the office,” Danny said as he wandered into the kitchen and shoved a hot pocket in the microwave. “My personal assistant is a whiz at these things.”

“I told you, I don’t want your money.”

“I know.” They’d been down this road before, mostly at Danny’s insistance. “But I’m sure there’s some – banking thing we could do. I should probably learn how to take out a loan. And I have to put a suit on anyway. I have a board meeting.” He stuffed his face like a kid, talking with his mouth open. “Ward said not to open my mouth, but I still have to be there.”

“Sounds like a nice guy.”

Danny shrugged. “He’s running the company, so ...” He gestured to the horde of food around him. “Take whatever you want. I gotta get dressed.”

He sounded like a kid being dragged to school. Luke shook his head, but only after Danny was gone, and helped himself to whole grain cereal. The kitchen table was piled with books, new and used, and there were unopened Amazon boxes lined up against the wall like neat little cardboard soldiers. Yeah, Luke had given him some suggestions, but … damn. It was almost entirely non-fiction – math, history, and business books.

There was only one placemat and there was an overturned book with a broken spine abandoned on it next to an empty box of graham crackers. Careful to insert his finger so Luke wouldn’t lose Danny’s place, he looked at the title with some surprise.

“You’re reading _The Bell Jar_?” he asked when Danny finally returned, his hair still wet from the shower. He was mostly focused on trying to figure out his tie pin.

“Uh, yeah. Trish gave it to me. Kind of hinted it was from Jessica, and Jessica barely returns my texts, so I figured I’d better read it.” He added, “It’s really depressing.”

“Yeah, a lot of early feminist literature is. They’re not out celebrating how easy it is to be a woman in the 60’s.”

Even in his tailored suit, Danny still drew the line at proper shoes. Where he had gotten yellow sneakers, Luke had no idea, but he had at least three pairs. “You want to go?”

“You’re sure I’m not getting in your way?”

"Trust me. I think the less actual Rand business I get done, the better it is for the company.”

  
~*~

That Danny drove a Maserati with his name on the plates was the least surprising thing about him. That he actually drove it himself was a little more surprising, but he was the type of guy who liked to be in control, or at least think that he was. He stopped at the corner fruit stand by his executive parking space to buy a bag of fresh apples, offering one to Luke before they went inside. Luke was severely underdressed for the layers of security in suits awaiting visitors, but they got out of the way for Danny, who smiled and waved politely at the elevator.

His office was a nauseating amount of floors up on the high speed elevator.

“Should I have dressed up for this?” Luke asked.

“Nah. Sometimes I’m not even wearing shoes,” Danny said as they stepped out. “Hi Megan!” His assistant looked legitimately pleased to see him. “Megan, this is Luke – um, Mr. Cage. He needs to get a bank loan. Is there someone here who can help him do that?”

“From Rand Securities?”

“I own a bank?” Danny asked. “No, I mean – a regular bank. That’s not us. Who do we have for that?”

Megan was extremely professional woman who was extremely good at not rolling her eyes. She didn’t even look like she wanted to. “We can send up a loan officer from accounting to help him fill out the appropriate paperwork.”

“Yes! That’s what I mean. Would you like an apple?”

“No thank you, sir.” She was already clacking away at her keyboard. “The accountant will be right up.”

Upon entering his office, Danny busied himself with yet another altar, this one smaller and less imposing, though the painted scroll of a god with hundreds of arms behind it did the job. There were the same seven bowls of water and the incense offerings. On a silver plate was a pile of aging apples, which Danny dumped on his desk and replaced with new ones. Then he put his feet up on his desk and started to eat the old ones.

“That’s Avalokiteshvara,” Danny said to Luke’s unanswered stare at the wall decoration. “The thousand-armed Buddha of Compassion.”

“And the weeds?” Luke meant the wall of branches and green leaves, which seemed to have all grown out of a tiny potted plant on the ground and improbably stretched across the wall, almost reaching the ceiling.

“Uhhhh ... Gao gave me that. I think it might be trying to take over the office.”

“Gao? From the Hand?”

Danny nodded. “I should get rid of it but … it’s a living thing. And it’s a plant. Plus Matt won’t take it.”

“Just don’t let it strangle you in your sleep.”

“I don’t sleep in the office,” he said, and added knowingly, “It’s really uncomfortable.”

   

~*~

The loan officer – Luke was unsure of what his actual job was supposed to be and what project he had been forced to abandon on the whims of his CEO – was thorough and far more polite than anyone in a real bank, even the ones initially awed by Luke’s celebrity. He urged Luke to be honest with his spotty financial history, saying if phrased correctly, it could work to his favor. The work was involved and took two hours, and after it Luke was sent back to up to Danny’s office. He opened the door to puffs of very distinct smoke coming from behind the chair, which spun around.

Danny nearly choked on the smoke he was trying to swallow. “Oh, thank G-d, it’s you. Knock next time!”

“You’re smoking weed.”

“Ugh, yeah I am,” Danny said with more confidence than he’d shown all morning. “Unless you’re going to call the cops.”

“They do this shit in Kunlun?”

Danny coughed and shook his head. “All we had was barley liquor. It was terrible.” He extended his hand, offering the blunt. “Wait … is this a parole violation?”

“Tell me you at least have glaucoma.”

“Why would I say that?” Danny replied. There were always gaps in his cultural knowledge that showed up in unexpected places. “Oh shit!” He nearly dove under his desk, stamping out the blunt very quickly into a drawer. “Be cool.”

But the door behind them had already open and shut, and a guy in pinstripes with slicked back hair like a skinny American Psycho was glaring at Danny. “What are you doing? Do you think I have no sense of smell?” He gestured around with the manila folder he was holding to the ritual items littering the room. “And the incense is not hiding anything. Covering up smells is what incense is _for_.” He turned and looked at Luke, perhaps having not noticed him at all, being so intent on dressing down Danny. “Who are you?”

“Ward, this is Luke.” He tried to hide a cough but it didn’t work. “Cage. Luke, this is Ward Meachum. He actually runs the company.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Ward said. “I read the article in the Times. You used to be a cop?”

“Long time ago.”

“Can you give him the D.A.R.E. speech? The one about drugs? And how he shouldn’t do them?”

“This is a pharmaceutical company!” Danny protested.

Luke couldn’t help but be amused and stared down at Ward, who was much younger and smaller than he’d imagined him. “Yeah, didn’t you guys cause an opioid crisis?”

Ward was already on the defense about that, like he had fielded this question before. “That was Pfizer!”

“When I first showed up,” Danny said, sitting high and mighty in his executive chair all of the sudden, “the Hand was using our pharma reps to sell synthetic heroin.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Danny, Jesus Christ! He’s a cop!” Ward shouted. “How do you even – forget it, I don’t want to know.”

“There was a story about a dragon,” Luke offered.

“I said I _didn’t want to know!”_  

Meanwhile, Danny was giggling, which was not helping the situation. He did try to stifle it by covering his face with his hands.

Ward sighed. “Every time with this guy.” He shook his head and pointed at Danny. “You keep your mouth shut this time. Nothing about dragons, nothing about zombies, and no suggestions about pricing. Some of us worked for our place in this company.” Ward was very used to ordering Danny around, and Danny was apparently used to taking it. “Now,” Ward said to Luke, “tell me you guys didn’t meet under circumstances Hogarth is going to have to deny.”

“He tried to beat me up.”

“Really?” This was the first time Ward looked genuinely surprised, and gave Luke a once-over, as if he had to do that. “How did that go?”

“Bad. For him, mostly,” Luke explained. “He got one good punch in.”

“Yeah, I think he only has one.”

“I can do it like twice now!” Danny said, holding up his not-currently-glowing fist.

“It’s true. I have seen him do it twice,” Luke said.

But Ward was having none of it today. “At least tell him he shouldn’t be getting high in front of someone in recovery.”

“You’re cured!” Danny said. “They cured you.” He said to Luke, “He took the synthetic heroin and he got a synthetic cure.”

“You got a cure for heroin?” Luke really could only take so much in one day. “And you’re not selling that?”

“Technically, the Hand had the cure,” Ward said, as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world to be discussing. “When we cut ties, they took it with them.”

Luke turned his glare to Danny. “And we were _fighting_ them?”   

“Um, yeah,” Danny said, not so quick in the rejoinder now. “And they were trying to destroy the city. Remember, we dropped a building on them?”

“ _Allegedly_ ,” Ward said. “ _Allegedly_ you dropped a building on them.”

“Did the others know this?” Luke whipped out his phone. “I’m texting them. Because I feel like this should have been brought up.”

“Yes, please, let’s all keep electronic records of these things,” Ward said, but at least he didn’t slap the phone out of Luke’s hand. Also he had a point.

“Relax,” Danny said. “Don’t we have every lawyer in the city on payroll? Which reminds me -  Luke!” He snapped his fingers. “Lunch at 12:30. Le Bernardin. I promised Matt a tasting menu.”

“Heck yes.” Sure, Luke would have to buy himself a jacket between now and 12:30, but it would be worth it. He was always going through clothes anyway.

“Great! And try to get Jessica to come. She doesn’t answer my texts.”

Luke decided to try. There would probably be a wine pairing.

 

~*~

“You owe me, asshole,” was the first thing Jessica said to him outside of one of the most expensive restaurants in New York. It wasn’t clear what she meant by that, not that Luke minded. Her insults were never barbed in his direction. He was wearing the only jacket he could find that fit him at the Salvation Army at 96th, and she was dressed exactly the way she always dressed.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

“Claire appreciate you using lines like that?” she said. “That why she kicked you out?”

Luke tossed his head back and groaned. “She didn’t kick me out. And how do you know?”

“Didn’t have time to get your suit?” Jessica said, barely looking up from her phone but pointing to his lack of tie. “Relax. I’m a private detective, not a gossip girl. But you better make it up to her soon because you’re not crashing at my place.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Thankfully, he didn’t have to answer any follow-up questions (not that Jessica was likely to ask them) because Matt showed up, sporting a black eye and stitches just above his eyebrow. Neither of them asked about it, and Matt looked relieved.    

It was Danny who stumbled into that conversation, “Hey Matt. What happened to you?”

“I’m fine,” Matt said. “Melvin just needs to be updated on the meaning of ‘bulletproof.’”

“Can’t you fist him back to health?” Jessica asked.

“I thought we all agreed not to call it that,” Danny grumbled.

“You all agreed,” Jessica replied, gesturing in a circle to the rest of them. “I never said anything. So how about it?”

Matt squirmed, not looking pleased at the idea, and Danny said, “I haven’t really perfected that practice yet. And we’re in public.”

“If you did something in public, maybe people would start believing you when you say you’re the Iron First,” Luke pointed out.

“That’s – that’s why I can’t do it.” Danny looked more indignant than usual, or about as indignant as he looked when people didn’t take him seriously, and Luke felt bad for saying it, though he might be the only one. “The Buddha says – “

Jessica was about to give an exaggerated groan but Matt cut her off before Luke even got the chance.    

Danny had noticed it, but he tried to brush it off. “So when the Buddha was alive, a lot of his followers became Enlightened, and when you’re fully Enlightened you can perform all of these miracles like fly or make a rainbow come out of your head. And in the nearby market there was a guy who thought the teachings were nonsense. He put a golden bowl high up in a tree and said, ‘Anyone who can fly up and get the bowl can keep it.’ So of course monk after monk refuses to do this, because that’s not how you’re supposed to prove the dharma is real. Finally one monk does give in and he flies up and collects the bowl. He brings it to the Buddha, and the Buddha says, ‘You’re like a prostitute who raises her skirt for money.’”

That deserved a moment to process.

“The Buddha sounds like a harsh dude,” Luke said.

“He was Enlightened. He wasn’t capable of being ‘harsh’ because he no longer took negative actions or accrued negative karma,” Danny said with the shrug. “But I guess you have to get through to people somehow.”

 

~*~

“So what did you get in trouble for, if I can ask?” Danny said on the way back to the office. “It wasn’t – “

“No, I don’t cheat,” Luke said. “You got a good thing coming to you, you hold on it as long as you can, you hear me?”

Danny nodded.

“I got a part-time gig. Bartender for private parties. Upscale. Selective. Turns out that’s code for rich people orgies, in case you ever get an invite and there’s a mask on the flier.”

“But – “

“And it paid really well. And everyone was consenting, so … You know, I just stand behind the bar. Smile. Crack jokes. Nothing happened, but turns out I should have run it by her first.” He mock-glared at Danny. “Stop giggling.”

“It’s kind of funny.”

“Yeah, well, maybe to you, but to me it’s that I don’t know how to apologize for accidentally working at a sex party. They don’t make a Hallmark card for that.”

“You could buy one of those blank ones – “

“You got a Buddha story to help me with this one?”

“Um, I’m a monk, so I’m supposed to immediately accept anyone’s apology and always offer them forgiveness,” Danny said. “I’m also supposed to avoid intoxicants and I have a buzz going, so maybe I’m not the best guy for advice.”

Luke patted him on the shoulder – and also stopped Danny from swaying. “You do okay.”

“Teach me a secret handshake.”

“You did me a solid today,” Luke said. “And you bought me lunch. So I’m going to forget that you ever said that.”

“I’d buy you all the flowers.”

“Thanks, man – but I gotta do this one myself.” Plus Claire would definitely be suspicious if she came home to a wedding level of floral decorations.

Danny tried an overly-complicated fist bump anyway, and Luke obliged him, because what was he supposed to do?

 

~*~

On the way home, Luke bought flowers – and a bonsai tree with a itty-bitty bronze Buddha glued to the base of the trunk. “Danny said it symbolizes forgiveness," he said as he stood on Claire’s doorstop.

“Sure it does,” she said, but let him in anyway.


End file.
